The Weather Machines - Bones And Brains EP

Tracks

 * 01 - Parts of Speech
 * 02 - 202
 * 03 - New Soft Archetype
 * 04 - Last Known Tropic Control
 * 05 - In the Dreamtime

Lyrics
A thousand muses blowing off your doors. Howling numen boring out your skull. Everyone says you don't use it. There's famished music roaring out your lungs, but Latin roots are rolling off your tongue. Everyone says you don't use it. Tether your thoughts to brute locution. How many months 'til you just lose your mind? Let my speech go all to pieces.
 * 1. Parts of Speech

Throw the switch on a well-known secret and watch the traps for some proof. Bleed the bits in the red line precincts - pump the taps to the crew in 202. Heard some clicks in the dead line ether. Static hissed through the driftnet fuses. Got the creeps from some ten-ton breathing. Traced it back a T1 spoof from 202. Hacked a glitch in the switchboard daemon. Violence in the black room ruins. We'll hit the bricks when the phone starts ringing. Intelligence says it's due by noon, so we're finished in this town.
 * 2. 202

There once was a time, blessed by the desire, they wrote out advice. They stole the rest of the lines from oracle guides and potency rites. I'm dumb enough to reject those formal arts. I'm dumb enough to refuse their protocols. Tear it up for the new soft archetype. I'm only nervous �'til you stop talking. Bold mystery brides undressed to the nines for cold-shower nights. I've blown what's left of my mind desperate to sire sociable vice. I know enough to respect my virgin thoughts. I know enough to confuse my porn and art. Tear it up for the new soft archetype. Tear it up for the new soft archetype. I'm only nervous �'til you stop talking. And can't stand the policy �'cause I'm pregnant with purity. But I ain't apostolic, man - I just slept right through the past. Tear it up for the new soft archetype. I'm only nervous 'til you stop talking.
 * 3. New Soft Archetype

Set my clocks back hoping to lose that broadcast of the perfect solution. We won't pretend were stunned at the news 'cause we're cultureless with a capital U, alright? We can't circle the sun. That's common sense though, right? We cant circle the sun, it's not something our laws will allow so let's not do it again - stop fooling around -�cause we're so logical. We cut time on our hands right down to the bone 'cause we're so methodical. We let science defend our delicate souls 'cause they're so vulnerable. We count down to the last known tropic control 'cause we're so logical. I guess that that ink spot's permanent proof of progress and Gestalt revolution. We'll just insist on elegant views, and get motionless 'cause we know it'll be alright. We can't circle the sun. No one said so, right? We can't circle the sun. It's not something we bother to doubt.
 * 4. Last Known Tropic Control

I don't want to sleep. The days just dream out loud. Without no chance to speak, my brains can't even tell if I'm waking up. I don't want to dream away those demon doubts. I've found no apogee. I'm way too evened out. I'm switching off. The terrible instinct to open your eyes is coming alive. Don't say it - of course I never knew this wasn't human. Crossfaded nocturnal knowledge isn't always lucid. Are these not the less-known ways to your heart?
 * 5. In the Dreamtime